


Final Fantasy Fan Fest Fluff

by urbandrakes



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Final Fantasy - Freeform, Hecka fluff, M/M, Troffy - Freeform, hatsome, its the ffxiv vlogs basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urbandrakes/pseuds/urbandrakes
Summary: Into the late hours of the night, finally returning from the full day of hte ffxiv fan fest, Smith, Ross and Trott all have a little too much fun with cheap liquor





	

"Come on Trott, don't wanna be late," Ross tutted, a cheeky grin on his face. The smaller yelled something back, but Ross didn't really hear, and instead leaned against the wall next to Trotts hotel room door.  
"You alright mate?" He turned to see smith walking down the hall, swiftly locking his phone and putting it in his pocket. Ross nodded, and grinned wider when Trott locked his door, smiling at the two of them.  
They'd all known each other far too long to ignore the glowing excitement Trott was desperately trying to hide, but it was very much there.  
"Let's head off then, don't want to miss anything, right Trotty?" Smith nudged their friend as they began to walk to the main lobby, Trott rolling his eyes but smiling nonetheless.  
-  
When they arrived, Trott wouldn't shut the fuck up. They'd filmed a little so far, the entering and earlier on with Katie, Trotts close friend who left for a little while as they went around.  
It was like a carnival, and Trott was so overjoyed. Every recognisable character he saw he grabbed at smiths arm, jumping a little and squeaking out their name. He even got stopped by a guy called Chris, a member of the Yafuza FC Trott had made in his solo streams, Alasse Tomâk. (My babe OC who imma make into a ffxiv char and join Yafuza when I can)  
"Ross!" The brunet now grabbed Ross' arm instead, pointing at a large stand filled with plushies. "They have chocobo plushies! Oh my god, and the weird mount I never remember the name of," Ross chuckled, placing a hand on his shorter friends shoulder and smiling at him.  
"Wanna go look? Just don't spend too much, mate, don't wanna run out of money," Trott grinned, leading them both through wades of crowds and finally reaching the stand.  
It was quite small, but had a few different levels crammed with plushies, and on the back wall was even more, all awkwardly pinned up.  
"That's cute," Smith commented, pointing at a strange cat thing, simply trying to see if he recognised anything. He'd only ever played seven and eight, so he didn't really know anything, but it was all worth it for Trotts enjoyment.  
The brunet grinned at his tall friend, picking up a fat chocobo plush to the left of them and looking at the label. It wasn't too expensive, and damn did he need more final fantasy things.  
The woman behind the stand smiled at his choice, walking forwards a bit. "Good pick. Special edition, that one," she spoke easily, crossing her arms over her chest. There was no others the same on the stand, and only one pinned to the wall. Behind Trott, Ross was grinning, lurching forwards and grabbing the plush from his hands.  
"I'll get this one, please," he said nicely. The girl grinned, checking the label. Ross payed, and handed the toy to Trott, who just stared at him, smiling brightly.  
"You didn't have to, I can pay for my own childish needs,"  
"Eh, it wasn't expensive," Ross shrugged like it didn't matter, but inside he knew the reason he did it was to see the glowing smile on Trotts face that had almost not left at all the entire time they'd been there.  
"Now come on, let's go get you more stamps,"  
-  
The rest of the festival went amazingly. Trott was extremely surprised at how much he enjoyed it. He knew he would, but he didn't expect to be fanboying over every little thing. He had to stop for a second and realise people did that to them, some had been for years, and internally thanked the fans for basically making them able to do these things.  
He found Smith sat cross legged in one of the less busy areas, after a while of chilled out walking around, the newly bought chocobo blanket thrown over him, the bright yellow making him easy to pick out amongst the people.  
They filmed a little more, but Ross stopped so they could sit down for a minute. Trott took a place next to Smith, who was talking to Katie about something. The brunet let out a long whine, finally catching the auburn haired mans attention.  
"What is it, Scrotty?" He hummed, flicking his head back so the hood fell, no longer blocking his vision entirely. Trott was smiling very hard, finding how fucking unintimidating Smith looked then: sat like a child, a bright and fluffy blanket thrown on him, his hands inside the little glove things.  
"My legs hurt," Trott pouted, making Smith smile a little, nudging him with his elbow and nodding towards a clock on the wall opposite them.  
"Not long to go, then we can leave. Don't wanna miss out," Trott smiled at his best friend, leaning half on the glass behind them and half on smiths shoulder, his entire body aching.  
They only had the piano contest left, then they were going to either head out or back to their respective hotel rooms  
-  
The fan fest, day one, had finished, and Trotts legs begged to just stop moving, so the three lads decided to instead of going out and getting drunk, go to Smiths (the largest) hotel room and get drunk.  
They bought some cheap shit on the way back, and the second they arrived in, Trott kicked off his shoes and dived into Smiths bed, dropping his bag in the floor beside it, sighing happily into the duvet, his legs feeling like they were stinging.  
"Come on Trotty, don't fall asleep yet," Smith grinned, taking off his jacket, Ross doing the same and discarding them both on the floor. Smith placed his bag on the chair, Trott slightly sad. He looked good in yellow, with yellow aspects. He was like a sunshine.  
The auburn haired man joined Trott on the bed after kicking off his shoes, Ross pulling himself up too, after taking off his own shoes, throwing them somewhere.  
Smith had the packs of shitty beers with him, and ripped one open, chucking a can at both Ross and Trott, opening his own. Trott grimaced, cracking it open and downing as much of it as he could. He'd always hated beers.  
Luckily, Smith got out the less cheap whiskey and the very much not cheap vodka after a while, but they stayed steady, so they weren't completely hammered, just extremely drunk.  
"I think that's enough Smiff," Trott whined, reaching for the whiskey Smith still clutched, laughing too hard at something Ross said that wasn't particularly funny.  
The auburn haired man pouted, his cheeks still indicating he was fighting a smile as he leant into the brunet who leaned forwards to grab ye bottle.  
"Smiffffyyyyyyyy," He dragged out, managing the pluck the bottle from his grasp, accidentally spilling a little as he put it on the beside table, fixing the packs of cheap beer they probably weren't going to drink onto the floor. Ross was sprawled out on his stomach, laying between the two so Trott had to try not to fall on him if Smith suddenly let go of the bottle, but that didn't happen.  
"I'm laying with Ross now," Trott commented cheekily, kicking his legs out and laying on his stomach beside the dark haired man who grinned st him, then smirked at smith. "he's a good boy,"  
"Trotttyyy," Ross groaned, jabbing his hand into his ribs, "don't say that, s''like fanfiction! You are not a top, at all," Ross slurred his words, and Trott rolled his eyes.  
"I could be!"  
"No you couldn't. Too small," Smith sighed happily when he copied the other twos posture, except then turning on his side to easily talk to them. Trott did the same on his other side, so the only person still laying face down was Ross, in the middle, his eyes calmly closed.  
"I'm 5'9," Trott argued, making both Smith and Ross laugh.  
"I'm 6'3 and Smith is 6'5. You're snall," Ross jabbed him again, making Trott squirm. The mood was calmer now, less of their meaningless innuendos in druken states like before. They were all now breathing slowly, just wanting to sleep.  
"You did get hammered, Smith. Knew you would," Trott changed the subject, hinting at the last thing they filmed for the vlog that day. He buried half of his face into the duvet below them, laughing at the middle finger he saw over Ross back.  
"Jokes on you two, I finally did get you in my bed," Smith replied, propping himself up on his elbows and winking at Trott. Ross laughed, muffled by the duvet.  
"Sadly not sexually, or even romantically," The darkest haired one mumbled through a smile.  
Neither of the other two noticed, but worry crossed Smiths eyes, and he swallowed. He had to wait for the right moment.  
"Should we get under duvet? 'M tired," Trott whined, making Smith smile. Ross immediately shot up, and got off the bed. At first Smith thought he was leaving. Maybe he knew, shit, maybe he could tea his mind. Was Ross secretly a mind reader all these years?  
His drunk thoughts messed his brain up until he realised Ross was back after turning off the light, so only the lamp next to the whiskey bottle remained on, a soft yellow glow enveloping the room, and poking his back.  
"Get under the fuckin duvet. Trotts ahead of you,"  
Smith opened his eyes, seeing the brunet grinning back at him, and fuck it was adorable.  
His hair was messed up, and he had the duvet pulled up over his nose, his eyes giving away the smile.  
Smith whined, but got under the duvet, feeling Ross crawly over him and back into the middle, the three of them going back to their previous positions, only now covered.  
"But I can say I slept with you," Smith brought up again, smirking. Ross rolled his eyes, manoeuvring his head to look directly at Smith  
"Whatever. You'll never be able to kiss these lips," Smith raised an eyebrow, his insides flipping.  
"You sure?"  
"Positive,"  
He did it in one movement, leaning in to Ross and kissing him, hard. He'd imagined this so many times, and expected to be roughly shoved away, not for Ross to just as eagerly kiss back.  
They both tasted of cheap alcohol, but they didn't care. Behind Ross, Trott was watching the back of the dark haired mans head move slightly. He knew what they were doing, and that made the stab in his heart worse. Trying to not disturb them, he pulled the duvet from his body, and got off the bed, unnoticed. He then began walking around it, his legs hurting too much to search for his own room keycard, and instead headed for the little sofa. He'd get neck cramp, but fuck it.  
"Where you goin, trotty?" Ross mumbled, rubbing his face as he sat up, his words still slightly slurred. Trott sighed, turning on his heel.  
"I don't want to be in a bed where you two fuck next to me," it came out more bitter than intended, and Trott didn't even know who he was jealous of, or why.  
Ross smiled sadly, the yellowish light complimenting his eyes, weirdly. He got up, walking to Trott and resting a hand on his hip. The other one cupped his jaw, tilting his head up to kiss him gently.  
"We'd never forget you, Trott. This is your weekend, after all. Now come on, I put smith in the middle cause he's like a big teddy bear,"  
Trott was blushing, and turned off the lamp so it was impossible to see, crashing down on smiths left side, Ross going to where Trott previously was.  
Sighing happily, Trott cuddled into Smiths cheat, not before getting a gentle kiss of him.  
Ross nuzzled the side of the tallest face, and linked his and Trotts hands on Smiths stomach, squeezing it.


End file.
